Our first night in the tent.
Our first morning in the tent.
I never thought I'd like canoeing.
That beach was a lot more fun than it looks.
"Hey! You guys want me to take a picture of all of you together?" We had to let him. His dog basically got diagnosed with cancer while there that weekend.
Stockbrot has potential. Make dough. Stick it on a stick. Stick stick near the fire. Eat.
Cy made a snake.
Lara, Leard, Martha, Cy. The campground was full of left-leaning parents and Dutch lesbians. Really.
Heinrich Vogeler lived here.
Two down.
Campsite!
Tasted like microbrew because, well, it is a microbrew.
When we used to ask my dad if we could help him, he'd say, "Sure, get out of the way." Although I don't say it, I now understand.
Just a little salt, Cy. Just a LITTLE salt , Cy. CY, JUST A LITTLE SALT.
Yeah wives!
No matter how nice they ask, don't pick the white flowers in the bushes.
The flowers are attached to tiny thingies that each contain the fire of hell in a boiling pot being microwaved on high (I made the same mistake the previous evening).
We slept surprisingly well.
Cy kept this guy for awhile. When he finally dropped him he started crying and said, "But he liked me." (We cleaned/trimmed those fingernails).
Cola Eis!
